The Pretty Wrecked
by SereneCalamity
Summary: They came from two completely different worlds, but they were both as wrecked as each other. Clace.
1. Chapter 1

_Hey, so I'm trying something a little different...Bit nervous about this...Let me know what you think...I apologize for any spelling mistakes, grammatical errors. _

_Disclaimer: I do not own the characters. _

"Maia! Where's Clare?" Sebastian Verlac shouted over the pounding music. Maia Roberts blinked blurily at the tall blonde next to her and shook her head, shrugging. Sebastian narrowed his eyes and swept his eyes around the room for the umptenth time that night. There was no sign of the petite red head anywhere and he growled under his breath. "When did you last see her?" He turned his attention back to Isabelle, who was breathing in deeply from the bong that was being passed around the wooden table. "Oi, Maia—"

"Ohmygod, the last time I saw her she was sucking on your cock," Maia growled. "If you've lost her since then, that's your problem, not mine!"

"Fucking hell," he growled, scratching the back of his neck and walking away from the group who were getting stoned. He walked out of the lounge and into the kitchen, where a girl was on the bench with her legs wide open, a guy standing between them, his hand busy at her crotch. He went into the hallway, glancing in the bedrooms of the apartment as he went, but despite the fact there were over thirty people in the tiny place, none of them was Clarissa Fray. He leaned against the doorframe leading back into the lounge when a tall, brunette stumbled into him. She smiled as she steadied herself against him.

"Hey," she murmured.

"Hi," Sebastian said shortly, turning his gaze back out over the room.

"You want a drink?" She asked.

"Yeah, a beer would be good," he told her, just wanting her to leave him alone. She teetered off on her high heels, and he let his eyes follow after her. She was wearing a short blue dress that showed her the bottom of her ass and was so low at the front her tits were nearly falling out. She wasn't half bad looking, and given he didn't have a clue where the girl he wanted to get on top of. "What's your name, doll?"

"Brianna," she replied as she handed him the beer she had got for him. He twisted off the cap of the beer and threw it on the ground. "What's yours?"

"Just call me Seb," he told her, taking a long drink from the beer. She stared up at him, clearly interested by the way she rubbed herself against him. He could see in her eyes that she was drunk, as if he hadn't already gathered it from the way she was walking, and he knew it wouldn't take much to get her down the hall to his own apartment. Hell, with the way she was acting, _she_ would probably lead _him_ down the hall.

"Are you here with anyone, Seb?" Brianna asked, scanning the room for any jealous females watching them. There were a couple, but only the kind that were watching because she was talking to one of the best looking guys in the room. None of them were actually making any moves to come over and mark their territory. He offered her a sip of her beer, which she accepted, although she had drunk so much already she didn't really taste the bitter liquid. Sebastian slung his arm around her neck, his hand resting just above her breast and she arched her back so that her chest stuck out a little more, his fingers brushing against the skin of her cleavage exposed by her low dress.

"Nah, I'm not here with anyone, doll," he said, taking the beer back from her and finishing it. "But I'm leaving with you."

"Oh yeah?" She raised an eyebrow at him, trying to act coy.

"Yeah," Sebastian jerked his head in a nod.

"What makes you think I'm that easy?" She teased him. Sebastian was smart enough to give his honest answer, which was '_well, because you look like a hoe'_.

"Come on, doll," he tightened his arm around her neck, pulling her in closer and dropping his face down to her level. "Come back with me." She stared up at him for a moment before nodding, a slow smirk spreading across her face as though she had accomplished something. It was a girl thing, he had seen it before. They thought they were so special when someone singled them out, like they were the ones with the upper hand.

But all he wanted was her mouth and her cunt and then she was out on her skinny ass.

They reached his apartment at the end of the hall, and he unlocked the door, throwing the keys onto the couch and grabbing Brianna. She squeaked as he hoisted her up, her legs wrapping around his waist. She laughed as he carried her into the hall leading down to his bedroom, pushing her up against the wall and latching onto her mouth. He ground his hips into the cradle of her legs, his cock already hard as she moaned and sighed against his lips. His fingers fumbled with the crotch of her underwear, pushing them aside and then sliding his fingers inside her roughly. She gasped and threw her head back against the wall, his fingers coated with her arousal as he pulled out of her and carried her into his bedroom.

And on his bed, sat the girl he had been looking for.

"Seriously, Seb?" She asked, raising an eyebrow at him. "I'm gone for an hour and you have to go find some whore to wet your cock?" Sebastian dropped Brianna, who's knees buckled as she fell to the ground and she tried to steady herself on the ridiculous heels she was wearing.

"Hey!" She snapped at the degrading turn.

"Oh, fuck off," Clary sneered, pulling her cigarette out of her mouth and letting out a stream of smoke. Brianna looked from Clary to Sebastian, who was now smirking and only had eyes for the red head.

"Asshole," Brianna snapped as she teetered out of the room. Clary looked back at Sebastian, titlting her head to the side and holding out her cigarette. Sebastian took it, taking a long drag before stubbing it out on the ash tray next to his bed. Clary didn't look at all perturbed by the fact he had been ready to fuck another girl, but that was what he liked about her. He unbuttoned his shirt, throwing it the ground and sitting down on the bed next to her.

"Where'd you go?" He asked her as he trailed a finger up her smooth, inner thigh.

"Out," she replied with a shrug. "But I'm back. You gonna fuck me or you want to talk? Coz I wasn't aware that we had the kind of relationship that required conversation."

"Straight to the point, as always," Sebastian grinned and pulled her closer to him. She pulled off her dress and then wriggled out of her underwear, the only lingerie she was wearing. He easily lifted her off the bed and put her on his lap, her thighs on either side of him. She rubbed herself up and down and then tilted her head to the side, looking down at him from where she had raised herself up on her thighs, her red hair tumbling down her back and around her shoulders. He shifted it aside so that he could see her pink nipples, already pebbled, stretching out for him to touch.

"You hard for that whore?" Clary asked as she rubbed her hand over the front of his jeans, her fingers teasing that zipper.

"She was hot," he shrugged.

"Oh really?" Clary muttered. "You want me to call her back in here, then?" She clearly didn't plan to beacuse she was already pulling down his zipper.

"Sure," he smirked at her. "Call her back, and then this is a party."

"You're a jerk, you know that?" Clary shook her head as she finally freed his cock from the confines of his jeans and briefs and reached behind him for the bedside table where he kept his condoms. She rolled it on expertly and then sunk onto him, her heat surronding him. Sebastian groaned at the sudden sensation, but she was already moving, using her thighs to lift her up and then sinking back down. Her eyes closed and she tilted back her head, sighs falling from her rosebud mouth as she rode him. Sebastian's hands went to her breasts, massaging them roughly and then pulling at her nipples hard. Rushes of electricity went to her centre each time he pulled, the pain he was creating translating to pleasure. "Fuck," she groaned, tipping her head forward and kissing him, their tongues duelling and their teeth biting. He caught her lower lip between his teeth and tugged on it, breaking the skin, the metallic taste of blood flooding her mouth.

"Faster, Clare," Sebastian grunted as he began to thrust up into her. "Come on, doll."

"Don't...Call me..._Doll_," Clary spat out snidely between thrusts, her hands bracing themselves on his shoulders as she quickened her pace. He couldn't help but grin as he could feel her start to tremble from the start of her orgasm and he dropped one hand to where they were connected, flicking over her clit.

"Come for me," Sebastian murmured as he felt his own orgasm impending. Her movements became jerky as she reached the edge of her cliff, falling over and letting out a high pitched moan. He took her over, ramming up into her harder, joining her in euphoria.

* * *

><p>"Aunty Rissa!" Came a scream and little, brown haired whirlwind sped down the hallway and tackled Clary as she came in the front door. She laughed as she braced herself against Max Lightwood's embrace, shutting the door behind her and then reaching down to pick him up, putting him on her hip. "You're late," he stated, squinting at her.<p>

"I am not," Clary replied. "_You're_ just awake early. And where are your glasses, my man?"

"They're in the lounge," Max told her as they walked down the hallway to the kitchen, where Isabelle Lightwood was standing behind the island in the middle of the kitchen, cutting up an apple into quarters. "Ma! Rissa's back!"

"So I see," Isabelle smiled as Clary put down Max on one of the barstools and then sat down on the one next to him. She reached across the bench top and snagged one of the quarters.

"Hey! That's my apple, Aunty Rissa!" Max protested as Isabelle put the remaining apple into a plastic bowl and pushed it over to her son.

"What, and you don't share now?" Clary asked through a mouthful of apple.

"Ew!" Max laughed as he shoved a quarter into his mouth. Isabelle started on another apple and then came around to sit the other side of the island to sit down, pausing next to Clary and leaning down to whisper in her ear.

"You smell like sex."

"Don't sound so jealous," Clary smirked.

"I know who you were doing—I'm not jealous," Isabelle rolled her eyes.

"Sure, sure, Iz," she smirked.

"What are you guys talking about?" Max asked, tilting his head to one side and looking up at his mother and her best friend.

"Boys," Clary shot back. "And kissing."

"Yuck," Max spat out, going back to his apple. "Uncle Alec is coming over today." Isabelle moved to sit down on the other side of Clary and they exchanged looks over his head. "I hope he brings presents, he told me that he would bring me an action figure of Michael-Angelo."

"Because you don't have enough toys," Isabelle teased lightly.

"Ma," Max shot a withering look at the dark haired woman. "No one can have too many toys."

"So Uncle Alec, aye?" Clary pursed her lips at Isabelle who just shrugged. "Think he's bringing any news from the almighty Robert and Maryse?"

"I don't know," Isbelle answered. "But do you think you could smell a little less like trailer trash when he gets here?"

"But that's my natural aroma. It's all part of my charm," Clary tilted her head to the side and plastered a sugary smile on her face.

"I like how you smell, Aunty Rissa," Max piped up.

"And that's why you're my favourite," Clary grinned and got off her barstool, reaching over to kiss Max on the forehead. Clary walked up the stairs of their house to the second floor. She stopped in her bedroom to put her phone on the charger, and strip out of her clothes, crossing to the opposite door where the bathroom was. She shut the door, turned on the shower and then looked into the mirror. The make up from last night was almost all rubbed off, her eyeliner and eyeshadow smudged around her eyes and making her look a little bit like a zombie. She brushed her teeth quickly and then hopped into the shower. "Ow, shit," she growled as she stepped on one of Max's green bath toys. She kicked it to the corner of the shower and fumbled around behind her for her body wash.

"When is Uncle Alec getting here?" Max asked, spinning around on his barstool as Isabelle walked over to the sink with his bowl and the knife that she had used to cut the apple.

"Soon—stop spinning on that, you're going to fall off one day and break something," Isabelle warned him.

"But not today," Max smiled cheekily as he stopped and then slid of his barstool.

"Go find your glasses and then go brush your teeth after Clary has finished her shower," Isabelle said as she washed the dishes.

"Rissa, not Clary," Max muttered. He tottered off into the lounge. There was a knock at the front door and Isabelle could hear her sons footsteps pick up as they ran toward the door. "Who's there?" He called from the other side of the front door and Isabelle grinned as she dried her hands on a tee-towel and walked toward the front door. She looked through the peep hole and then unlocked the door. "Uncle Alec!" Max cried, latching himself onto Alec's legs.

"Hey, Max," Alec Lightwood grinned and picked Max up, holding him over his head. Max grinned and then started wriggling, wanting to be put down, looking down at his uncles empty hands in disappointment. "What's wrong?" He asked with a grin. "You looking for something?" Max shrugged, trying not to let his expression bely how he was feeling. "Maybe a TMNT action figure?" The little boys head snapped up, his eyes glowing.

"Jace," Isabelle stated, looking over her brothers shoulder as a golden haired boy started walking up the stairs to their two-storied walk up. Jace Wayland nodded at her with a tight smile, and then held out a plastic bag toward Max. "What do you say?" Isabelle nodded at Max who smiled charmingly up at Alec and Jace.

"Thank you," he cooed out before turning on his heel and running back into the house.

"What are you doing here?" Isabelle asked, raising her eyebrow at Jace.

"Easy," Alec said warningly. "He just wanted to come and see how you were doing."

"I'm doing just peachy," Isabelle muttered, still blocking the doorway into her home. "You run out of girls on the Upper East side to screw, you thought that you would come and slum it down here?" Jace tilted his head to the side, looking completely unaffected by Isabelle's words. He stared at her for a long time before finally a small smile crossed her mouth and she shook her head.

"That's what I thought," Jace smirked. "Good to see you too, Iz."

"Yeah, yeah," Isabelle rolled her eyes. "Come on in." She stepped aside and the two men came into the house. She couldn't help but think how out of place they both looked. Not that her, Clary and Max's home wasn't nice, but it wasn't expensive. Her tastes had changed dramatically when Max had been born, but from her upbringing's experience, she knew that the shorts and shirts the boys were wearing were well over two hundred each, not to the mention the watch on her brothers wrist which she knew for a face was over a thousand. Not that either of them really noticed that.

"Hey, where's your toliet?" Jace asked as the door closed behind them.

"Upstairs, on the left," Isabelle replied. Jace nodded and walked up the stairs as the siblings walked toward the lounge where Max was now playing. He had only been to Isabelle's place twice, and both times were over two years ago. The bathroom was hot, the mirror steamed up, as though someone had just had a shower. He quickly took a piss and washed his hands, before coming out and running head first into a red head, wearing only a pair of panties.

"Oh, shit," Jace closed his eyes automatically and turned his head to the side.

"Fucking hell," the red head cursed, turning on her heel and going into the bedroom she had just come out of but not bothering to close the door.

"Sorry about that!" Jace called, still not opening his eyes, not sure if she was decent yet.

"You look like you're blushing," the girls voice sounded like she was bored, not at all surprised or embarassed like any other girl would be in this situation. "What? You never seen a pair of tits before?" His eyes flew open at that and he noted that she was almost dressed now, wearing a shirt and pulling on a mini skirt.

"Plenty, actually," he retorted. Her eyes widened and she gave him a smile that was clearly not genuine.

"Well good for you," she stated as she came out of the bedroom and then headed downstairs. Jace blinked after her, completely confused at the interaction. He followed after her a minute or so later, following the sound of voices and Max's laughing. Alec was sitting on an arm chair, while Isabelle and the red head were on the ground beside where Max was playing with his new toy. Alec looked up as he walked in and grinned.

"Oh, Clary, this is Jace, a family friend," Alec stated, nodding over to where Jace was standing. The red head looked up from where she had been instructed to hold two plastic figurines that Max had dug out of his toy box.

"Hey," she muttered, her eyes going back to Max. The Lightwood siblings didn't act like the behaviour was anything strange, and didn't show any sign of knowing about their run in upstairs, so Jace sat down on the couch next to the arm chair Alec was on and tried to relax.

Conversation was light for a while, until Max announced that he wanted to watch TV and the four adults made their way into the adjoining kitchen. Isabelle flicked on the coffee maker while Clary opened the doors to the tiny veranda and pulled a pack of cigarettes out of her back pocket, propping one between her lips and lighting it up. Jace couldn't help but let his eyes follow her as she leaned forward with one arm bracing her against the metal railing, her ass sticking out slightly due to her position.

"Why are you here, Alec?" Isabelle asked quietly, her eyes flicking over to her son, who was completely obsorbed with his TV show.

"I wanted to see how you were doing, Iz," Alec replied, his voice low to match hers.

"And?" She pressed. Jace looked between the two, wondering if Clary had the right idea in leaving them alone. But then she came back into the lounge, walking around so that she was on the same side of the island as Isabelle, and stared defiantly at Alec. He sighed and rested his hands on the edge of the kitchen island, his fingers splayed out as he took in a deep breath.

"Mum and dad want to see you," Alec began. Isabelle's eyes narrowed instantly and he rushed on before she could say anything. "I know, I know, that's the last thing that you want to do. But they've started coming around; they want to get to know Max."

"Why?" Isabelle snapped. "Because now that he's old enough to be dressed up and put in front of the cameras they want to claim some kind of ownership over him? He's my son and he's not going through the same shit that we went through."

"I get that, I do—"

"No, you don't," Isabelle growled. "You're still in that life, it was never the way it was for you the way it was for me."

"Yeah, I know—"

"Is that the only reason you're here today?" Isabelle interuppted.

"Iz, I haven't seen you in ages. I just wanted to see my sister and nephew," he told her, trying to keep his voice even. Jace looked down a his friends and saw how white his knuckles were, and knew that he was trying to contain his temper.

"And now you've seen us," she snapped.

"Iz..." Clary said softly.

"Oh, come on, Clary," Isabelle huffed. "It would be ten seconds before they're telling me how to live my life again. And moving out of the place I'm sharing with my hooker room-mate would be in the top three demands." Jace's eyes flickered in recognition as he looked over at Clary, realizing that this was the 'dancer' friend that Alec had told him about. From Alec's description, it sounded as though he actually really liked and respected the girl, although that wasn't obvious from anything that was happening at the moment.

"Isabelle, maybe if you just listened to what they wanted instead of jumping to conclusions as usual then—"

"Then...What?" Isabelle squinted at him. "Fucking hell, Alec, I'm not getting sucked—"

"Mama?" Max's voice was soft. All four turned around to look down at the five year old who was staring up at them with wide, brown eyes. Clary took count of the situation and then plastered a smile on her face, coming around to where Max was standing and kneeling down to his level.

"How about we go up to Aunty Rissa's room and watch TV?" She suggested. "Let mama and Uncle Alec talk."

"What about him?" Max nodded over to Jace. Clary looked over her shoulder, studying him quickly before looking back at him and smiling again.

"He's going to come with us," she stated. Jace raised an eyebrow, but he had to admit that he was grateful for the out. He had known Isabelle and Alec since he was seven, and their fights could get legendary. He slid off his barstool and followed the other two up the stairs. They went through the door opposite the bathroom and Jace blinked as he took in the room.

It was an absolute mess.

He had grown up with maid service and people tidying up after him every step of the way, but he couldn't imagine actually being able to go to sleep at night with a room that looked like this. One plus side was that it didn't look dirty; there were no plates or cups with remains of food, it was just a tip. There were piles of clothes, none which were folded, on almost every surface; the desk, the chair, the floor, the bedside table. His eyes rested on a lacy thong that was hooked over a lamp and he raised his eyes to Clary, who was watching him.

"No judging looks or you'll be back down with the Terrible Twosome," Clary warned him as she climbed on her double bed, which was un-surprisingly, not made. Max climbed up next to her, nestling between her legs as he took control of the remote and found the same channel that he had been watching downstairs. Jace sat down awkwardly on the edge of the bed, trying to figure out exactly _where _all his game had gone. He had known this girl all of twenty minutes, and he already felt more on edge that he had with anyone else. They were quiet for a while, finishing the show that was on and then starting on the next one. Max let out a sneeze, covering his mouth with his hands and then pulling them away.

"I need to blow my nose," he said, tipping his head back to look up at Clary. She turned to Jace and nodded at her bedside table.

"Can you get the box of tissues in the drawer?" She asked. Jace nodded, reaching for the top one and her eyes widened. "_Second_ drawer!" She quickly tried to direct him, but he had already opened the top drawer and a grin shot across his face. An assortment of condoms, a plastic tube of flavored lube and a condom.

"You're not allowed in that drawer," Max said seriously, shaking his head. "That's Aunty Rissa's special drawer."

"Right," Jace drawled, looking over at Clary. She rolled her eyes and pointed at the second drawer.

"Tissues," she repeated. He got the box out and handed one over to Max. The little boy blew his nose and then settled back down. Clary put her arms loosely around his waist, the two of them clearly comfortable with each other. The peace only last another ten minutes, before Isabelle and Alec appeared at the door, neither of them looking particularly happy. They tried to plaster optimistic expressions on their faces for Max's sake but Jace and Clary saw through them easily.

"Uncle Alec is going now, Max," Isabelle announced. "Come say goodbye." Max clambered off the bed to give his uncle a hug and Jace got, looking down at Clary. She wasn't even looking at him, her eyes trained on Isabelle.

"It was nice meeting you," Jace said, his high society manners coming out. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye.

"I'm sure," she replied, effectively shutting him down as she got up to join Isabelle and Max in the door. "Alec."

"Clary," he nodded back at her, before turning on his heel and stalking away, Jace close on his heels.

* * *

><p>"Thank you, Si!" Isabelle called as the two girls walked down the front steps of their house.<p>

"It's no problem, Izzy, you know that," he smiled after them, looking down at Max who was tugging on his hand, trying to get his attention. Simon Lewis disappeared back into the house and Isabelle looked over at Clary, who was grinning at her.

"What?" She snapped as she shoved her hands into her pockets.

"You know what," Clary replied, nudging Isabelle with her hip as she pulled out a cigarette and stuck it in her mouth.

"I don't have a clue where your delusional brain has taken your train of though," Isabelle muttered as they walked down the street, Clary lighting her cigarette with slight difficulty as they picked up their pace.

"He has a thing for you, Iz. It's so obvious!"

"Whatever," Isabelle kept her eyes trained ahead. Clary shrugged, puffing on her cigarette. They walked in silence for a few minutes, stopping at the curb to wait for traffic before crossing to the other side and continuing.

"You going to tell me what that was all about this afternoon?" Clary asked eventually.

"Not yet," Isabelle sighed. "We'll talk after work, yeah?"

"Yeah," Clary replied, knowing when to leave a subject alone. Their work was only a fifteen minute walk, although if either girl ever had a night shift, they never made the walk home. They went to the side door, letting themselves in, and being engulfed immedietly in the hustle bustle of the changing rooms. "I'll see you later, Iz!" Clary called as Isabelle continued straight through the room. The red head dropped her bag into one of the avaliable seats and looked at her reflection in the mirror.

Her face was completely void of makeup.

A clean slate.

Exactly how she needed to start every shift.

"Seb was looking for you the other night," Maia piped up, appearing behind her, wearing only a pink thong.

"Yeah, he clearly doesn't look very hard," Clary smirked as she started with her foundation. "He was with some bitch when he got back to his apartment."

"Can't blame a girl for trying. He is _fine_," Maia grinned and Clary shook her head.

"I doubt she tried very hard," she rolled her eyes as she finished with the apartment and lifted her powder brush. "That man must have been through half the city by now." She finished her base makeup and tied her hair up in a knot on top of her head.

"That's kind of disgusting, to be honest," Maia quirked an eyebrow and Clary laughed as she stood up, pulling off her shirt and reached behind her back to undo her bra strap. Maia didn't flinch as Clary's breasts were suddenly exposed, leaning against the make up table and watching as the girl started going through the clothing rack behind her.

"Disgusting, maybe. That's why he wears a condom," she shrugged. "But he's good, and that's all that matters, right?"

"You never want anything else?" Maia asked.

"I'm twenty two," Clary said, turning back around, pushing her skirt and g-string down as she found the outfit she was wearing that night. "All I need at the moment is good cock and my cigarettes and I'm good." She wiggled into the latex dress that left absolutely nothing to the imagination and then fumbled around in her personal drawer for underwear. "Besides, you've been single pretty much the whole time I've known you."

"Yeah, but I date guys!" Maia protested. "I _want_ to find someone!"

"Eh," Clary shrugged. "Guys are assholes." She was back in front of her mirror, painting her eyes and lips. The girls were quiet as Clary got herself ready, finishing her face and then letting down her hair, clipping it back behind her ears and flicking at the ends. "Wish me luck," she pursed her lips playfully.

"Make 'em hard, baby girl," Maia joked, slapping her on the ass as she pushed open the curtain and walked onto the stage.

_Sooooo, if you want me to continue...Review. Because I'm super unsure about this..._


	2. Chapter 2

_Thank you guys heaps for your reviews, I love all you beautiful individuals and your lovely words :) There's just something that I wanted to put out there. I love making new friends on here and then in turn on Facebook, I love talking to you guys, _but_ if you add me, just let me know who you are, coz if someone adds me and we have no mutual friends, I tend to decline and block as an automatic reaction. Haha. Thank yoooooou._

_So guys, tell me your favorite, sexy Clace stories! I've probably read it, but suggest them anyway, because I need some good reading!_

"Where are you?" Alec growled.

"Uh..." there was a loud tooting and then a distant yelling as Alec waited for a reply. "Just turned off Princess, now on Hartis."

"Shit, so you haven't even dropped it off yet? You know your fucking psycho fiance will cut my cock off if you're late."

"But it's such a pretty cock," Magnus Bane piped up from the four poster bed, pouting at his boyfriend. Alec rolled his eyes and turned so that he was facing the wall, but he couldn't stop the smile that quirked his lips upward.

"Jace, you've got an hour."

"Yeah, yeah." His friend on the other end didn't sound at all concerned as he ended the call. Alec let out a frustrated growl and dropped his phone to the pile of clothes on the floor and turned back to his naked boyfriend. Magnus stretched out his toned body lazily before sitting up and arching a perfectly plucked eyebrow at him.

"Alexander. You're not his mother, or his fiance—you're his friend. Let him deal with all this himself—he's old enough," Magnus shrugged.

"You know it's not that easy for me," Alec muttered, rubbing a hand over his face. Magnus shuffled closer to him and pressed a kiss to his bare shoulder. The two sat in silence before Magnus pulled his mouth away from his boyfriends skin.

"You didn't tell me how it went with Isabelle last weekend," he stated quietly.

"It went fine," Alec sighed, getting off the bed and walking over to the mahogany set of drawers at the foot of the bed and pulled out a pair of grey Calvin Kleins. Magnus stayed on the bed, giving him his space, allowing him some time to elaborate on his answer. Instead, he busied himself in front of his floor length mirror, rubbing mousse onto his hands and then styling his hair. Magnus got off the mattress and leaned against the one of the end posts of the bed, his eye meeting his partners blue orbs in their reflection from the mirror. "It was the usual. Awkward and tense and then she practically threw me out after half an hour. I thought that taking Jace might help to ease the atmosphere, but as soon as I mentioned Robert and Maryse, she froze me out."

"Can you blame her, though?" Magnus asked, his voice soft, knowing that it was a touchy subject with his boyfriend.

"Whatever," Alec growled as he stalked into his walk in closet. There was silence as he dressed and when he emerged, Magnus had to take a moment just to appreciate how good looking he was. Alec was wearing a steel grey suit that was tailored to fit him like a glove. He had a crisp, white shirt underneath and had a dark blue tie on, one that matched his eyes. Magnus reached out to fix Alec's tie, a small smile crossing his face.

"And what about Clarissa? How's our stubborn red-head doing?"

"You've never even met her," Alec grunted. "You're not supposed to talk about her like a long lost friend."

"She's good for Isabelle and Max, and she gets under your skin. When we meet, we're going to be practically family," Magnus grinned. Alec rolled his eyes but nodded.

"Yeah, you probably would," he said. "She was fine. She looked uninterested in the world, as per usual. But protective and defensive as soon as Iz and Max started to get upset."

"Which is good," Magnus pushed. "Which is what she needs. Someone looking out for her. That's why you like her."

"That's why I like her," Alec confirmed. Magnus licked his lips as he stepped back from his boyfriend and ran his hands down his arms, dusting off imaginary lint. Alec wasn't as observant as Magnus, but he knew that there was a further question that he was curious about. Alec took in a deep breath, a pained look settling on his face as he picked up his Rolex from the drawers and focusing his attention on the watch. Magnus turned and started to dress and Alec let out another sigh, his eyes closing momentarily. "I'm sorry, Magnus," he said quietly.

"I've been dealing with it for years," Magnus gritted out as he dressed. "And it's not like telling your sister is all of a sudden going to change things. It's not like your parents are going to accept this or that the press isn't going to chase this and destroy it."

"I know, but I promised you I would tell her," Alec reached out and wrapped his hand around Magnus's wrist, forcing him to stop buttoning up his shirt. Magnus lifted his gold flecked eyes to meet Alec's blue ones, and Alec almost flinched at the pain that was clear. "I'm sorry."

"I know, Alexander," Magnus said evenly. He pulled away from Alec to finish getting dressed. Alec opened his mouth to say something, but there weren't any words. Then there was a loud ringing from the lounge and Magnus glanced toward the door pointedly. "You better get that. It's probably your ride." Alec sighed and his lips parted for a second time but Magnus just shook his head. "I'll see you." Alec watched him go, biting down on his lower lip in annoyance before going into the lounge and picking up the phone.

"What?" He snapped.

"Your town car is here," a voice told him, unperturbed by his abrupt tone.

"Thanks." Alec slammed the phone down. He crossed the apartment and pressed the button for his private elevator, waiting for it to come back up from dropping Magnus off. When it arrived, he stepped inside, taking in a couple of breaths to try and calm himself down and settle his expression. When he reached the ground floor, he crossed the the expensively suited out lobby and the front door was opened by a doorman, who nodded at him. The chauffeur opened the limousine door for him, giving him a polite smile.

"Hey, baby," Staci Anderson greeted him with a wide grin as he slid into the back seat next to her.

"Hi, Stace," Alec replied, leaning in to give her a kiss.

* * *

><p>"Jace! Jace Wayland! Over here!"<p>

"Kaelie, give us a smile!"

"When is the wedding?"

"Give her a kiss, Wayland!"

The paparazzi were shouting from all directions, and Kaelie Whitewillow was sucking it up, as usual. Jace played the role of doting fiance well, his arm wrapped around Kaelie's waist, holding her in tight to his side, pressing a kiss to her forehead, smiling widely at the camera. But as soon as they walked through the darkened doorway and into the privacy of the hall, the smile dropped from Jace's face and he shoved his hands into the pockets of his tailored Armani suit. Kaelie looked up at him but didn't say anything, her expression bored as she stalked out in front of him, her ass swaying from side to side in the tiny silver dress she was wearing. They were about to enter the ballroom when Jace jumped forward and grabbed her hand, pulling her into him.

"Oh!" She gasped as her chest collided with his. "What?" She asked, looking slightly annoyed.

"You want to take a detour before going in?" Jace asked, a cheeky smile on his face and a familiar glint in his eye. "We could check out the upstairs balcony together." Kaelie rolled her eyes and tugged her hand away from him.

"We're already late, Jace," she snapped. "Where were you, anyway?"

"I already said I'm sorry," he told her. "And if we're already late, what's another twenty minutes." He reached out for her again, but she just shook her head and snatched her hand back again. His smile disappeared again and he took in a long suffering breath, pursing his lips together. Kaelie reached the door that led into the main ballroom of the event and she stopped, her heels coming to a halt on the marble floors as she waited for Jace to catch up. He put his hand on the small of her back and fixed a smile on his face again before they walked into the ballroom.

"Finally!" Celine Wayland appeared at his side, smiling widely at him. The smile that he returned was genuine, for the first time that evening. "I was beginning to worry that you weren't coming."

"It looked that way for a while," Kaelie said, the snide undertone evident in her voice despite the sugary smile plastered on her face. Celine raised an eyebrow at the younger girl, the coolness radiating off her, and Kaelie released Jace's arm. "I'm going to go find some champagne," she muttered, walking away. Celine watched her go, disapproval clear on her face before she turned back to her son.

"That girl," Celine began and Jace took in a deep breath. "All I want is for you to be happy, Jace," she said, reaching out to touch her sons hand.

"Happy?" Jace smirked. "You've met my father, right?"

"Unfortunately," Celine muttered, rolling her eyes in a very unladylike manner. "Well, I hope that whatever the reason for you being with her, it pays off in the end."

"I'll be fine, mum," Jace leaned down to kiss his mother on the cheek lightly. "You know how this shit is."

Jace found Alec and his date, Kaelie reappearing and gluing herself to his side. The night went just like every other night at these things. Lots of fake smiling, lots of posing for photos, lots of speeches made that were written by PA's and delivered by smarmy business men who clearly didn't mean a word they said. Jace was glad that he was sat at a table with Alec, rather than with any of his family. Since his parents divorce a year ago, it all came down to him choosing between the two of them. In an act of defiance, and mainly just because he hated his father, he took his mothers maiden name. But that didn't stop the fact that he was a Stephen Herondale's heir, and he would be following in his footsteps up until the point that he took over the hotel business when his father stepped down. Alec was good at pretending, but Jace hated sitting opposite his friend and seeing the trapped look in his eyes as Staci giggled and rubbed her hand up and down his thigh under the table. It was after midnight before the two men were able to slip away, disappearing upstairs and opening up a double door that led out onto one of the balcony's, that looked out over the perfectly manicured backyard.

"You good?" Jace asked, his voice gruff as he lit up a cigarette and propped it into his mouth.

"Fine," Alec replied, his voice just as abrupt as he accepted the lighter from his friend and lit his own cigarette. The two went quiet as they smoked. Alec let out an angry growl and kicked at one of the pot plants on the balcony, the ceramic shattering loudly. Jace didn't say anything, knowing that there was more to come. "That chick in there is driving me fucking insane. And Kaelie? She's no better."

"No, she's not," Jace smirked as he let out a long stream of smoke from the corner of his mouth. "The only difference is that I put up with her because I _like_ it when she sucks my cock." Alec winced and let out a short, sharp breath. Jace's expression faltered and he glanced sideways at his oldest friend. "How many times have you slept with her?"

"More times than I want to think about," Alec gritted out.

"Does Magnus know?" Jace asked.

"I think so," Alec shrugged. "He doesn't ask, I don't bring it up." Jace nodded, dropping his cigarette on the ground and stubbing it out with his thousand dollar, Italian leather shoes.

"How long do you think Magnus is going to wait, Alec?" He questioned. Alec's eyebrows furrowed, his eyes trained on the backyard, clearly trying to distract himself. "Alec, come on. It's been over two years. It's going to cause a huge media frenzy for a week, and then there's going to be some sex tape or nude photos leaked, probably from my darling fiance, and their attention will shift."

"And what about my parents? I'm pretty sure they're not going to forget their only son is gay and just move on after a week," Alec bit out.

"No, but if they love you, they'll accept you, or all that bullshit."

"Love me?" Alec snorted. "You've met our fathers, right? I don't think they know the meaning of the word."

"Well," Jace gave a one shouldered shrug and pursed his lips. "That _is_ true."

* * *

><p>For some time, Jace had wondered if there was some finishing school that rich girls and socialites went to so that they could become their versions of perfect life partners. Because the girls that he had been surrounded by his whole life, especially from his teens upward, were all the same, and his fiance was no exception. A little slutty, without a very big attention span, and with dollar signs glowing in their eyes.<p>

He looked across at Kaelie, who was fast asleep in the king sized bed next to him. The sheets were pushed down around her waist, her perfect, Double D implants on full display. He turned his attention to the clock on the wall opposite the bed, and saw that it was just after four. It had been nearly two hours since they had arrived back at his apartment. Kaelie was pretty tipsy, and had been pawing at his clothes, pulling them off, and had then jumped him when they reached the bedroom, her pussy tight like a vice around his cock as she rode him. Sex was always good, not great, but good, with Kaelie, but then afterwards, as they had laid on his bed, conversation was stilted and he felt his attention wandering and knew that hers definitely was. She had asked why he was running late to the charity dinner, he had deflected; telling the blonde about his extra circular activities was the last thing he wanted to do. She had fallen asleep not too long after, but he hadn't.

A loud vibrate slid through the room and Jace reached out quickly to grab his phone off the bedside table, glancing over to Kaelie to make sure it didn't wake her up. She rolled over and made a little huffing noise under her breath, settling back down. Jace looked back at his phone and pressed down the 'answer' button.

"Hey."

"Bro!" Came the response. "You up to be my follow car?" Jace couldn't help the rush of excitement and adrenaline that pumped through his body at the question, already feeling ten times more alert than he had felt a couple of seconds ago.

"When?"

"Now. There was some big, rich guy event on in town, and a bunch of them got drunk of their thousand dollar champagne and shit and left their cars in the event parking. There's going to be some beautiful babies in there."

"How many boys are going?" Jace asked.

"Four of us," the man replied. "You in?"

"I'll meet you across the street from the parking lot in twenty minutes."

"Knew I could count on you, Wayland."

Jace was out of bed and pulling on a pair of designer jeans before the call had even ended. Kaelie was still out of it, and she would still probably be for the next six or seven hours—thank god for the ten or eleven pink, girly drinks she had ordered at the event. He pulled on a black hoodie and then walked out of the bedroom, toward the private elevator. He left the penthouse, the elevator whizzing down silently until it was at the second basement level. He had three cars, a silver Porsche, a red Ferrari and a black, nondescript Honda Civic. Kaelie had no idea of his third car, she would probably be shocked into next week if she knew he owned a car that retailed for under six figures.

But it was for times like these that he needed a car like this.

A car that had three different licence plates in the back, a gun—loaded with blanks but still menacing—in the glove box and a tool set under the front seat.

Jace turned on the engine, reversing out of parking spot and speeding out of the parking lot. There was a back way of the hotel, one that only several people knew about that avoided security cameras; one of the perks of being the son of the owner of the hotel. New York was one of the only cities that seemed to be awake for a full twenty-four hours, even if traffic slowed at this time of the morning, there was still life. There were taxi's on the street and people walking on the sidewalk. Most of them looked drunk, although there were several who were fully dressed in suits with briefcases, probably bankers pulling late night shifts or starting early ones. Jace reached the block where the charity ball had been held and saw a group of men, dressed similarly to him, standing on the corner of the block, looking more than a little suspicious. He grinned as he pulled up next to them, winding down the window.

"You boys don't look like you're going to commit a felony or anything, standing here looking all dodgy and shit," Jace smirked at them. One of the shorter boys, one that Jace only knew as 'Dog' pulled the fingers at him and then the man who was on the phone with Jace stepped forward, giving him a welcoming smile.

"Thanks for coming, man," Jordan Kyle said, leaning on the side of the car. "You ready for this?"

"I'll park up here, wait for four cars to leave and then follow," Jace confirmed.

"That's my man," Jordan reached out a fist, and Jace bumped his own against the taller boys before the four all turned and scampered down the street. Jace pulled out a cigarette, lighting it up as he sat down low in the drivers seat, his eyes trained on the parking structure. His whole body was on high alert, and he tapped his foot erratically on the floor of the car, smoking his way quickly through the cigarette. He had just started on a second one when three cars flew from the parking structure. Jace threw his cigarette to the ground and hit the button on the door with his elbow to lift the window, turning the key in the ignition. The thirty seconds between the first three cars and the fourth stretched out, and Jace's fingers started tapping away on the steering wheel before finally, a matte grey Mercedes was speeding down the street. Jace followed, going a much slower pace, knowing the exact path that the boys would be taking to the chop shop on the other side of town.

Once they were two blocks over, they all slowed to just a little above the speed limit, in an effort not to draw attention to themselves. Jace was almost a block behind them, and he turned his radio up loud, his fingers jerking in time to the music, his body buzzing. A light ahead turned red and he grimaced, slowing down, watching as the boys in front of him disappeared. Up ahead, two cars broke off, going down separate streets, blending in with the traffic rather than four expensive vehicles all grouped together.

When the light turned green, Jace continued forward, following the first two cars through the city. They were a couple of blocks in front of him now, and getting further away, but he hadn't seen any police cars and he had a feeling that this was just going to be a boring night.

Then his phone rang.

He snatched it up, putting it to his ear.

"Sirens. I'm on Kings Street."

"I'm coming," Jace bit out, snapping phone shut and jerking the wheel to the side, ducking down a side street. He could hear the sirens and he couldn't help but grin and lean forward slightly as he spotted the red and blue lights just up ahead. It was Jordan, in a white SVU, and the cop was just getting out of his patrol vehicle as Jace drove past. He caught his accomplices eye and nodded as he turned into a alley way up ahead. It was an alley he knew well—he knew all the back ways of the city, all the ins and outs. He wound down his window, reaching for his glove box and pulling out the gun. He fired off two shots, into the ground of the alley.

He didn't wait for the response, knowing the cop would be running for his vehicle now, over-looking any traffic violation that he had pulled Jordan over, not having the time yet to run the plates and realize that the vehicle was stolen.

Jace slammed his foot down on the accelerator, the wheels of his car spinning furiously on the messy ground before he was speeding down the alley. As he reached the end, he caught a glimpse of the police car turning down the alley after him and he smirked. He ignored the indignant toots that came from the traffic he cut off, grinning as his body swung into the door as he turned sharply down a side street.

This was what he liked.

This was why he did this.

The other boys; they did it for the money. This was how they paid their way. This was their livelihood.

But not for Jace.

This was his adrenaline rush.

This was the only thing that got his heart pumping.

The sirens of the police car was getting further away, and he could no longer see the lights flashing and reflecting off the buildings. But that didn't matter, his blood was rushing through his veins and all of his nerves were electrified. He sped past another police car that was pulled over to one side of the road, and their lights lit up, accelerating after him, but already he was turning down an alley that led him to a parking lot. His tyres squealed on the concrete, echoing through the closed in parking structure before he flew out the other side and almost immediately, he could see the change in scenery. He was making his way out of the center city, away from the life he was used, and moving toward the darker, seedier side of the city. A place where it was a lot easier to get lost.

The cops had both given up, and Jace decided to find somewhere to pull over and change his plates, in case they decided to put him out over the radio. He wasn't entirely certain where he was, although some of the streets he went down looked vaguely familiar, although that could just be because he had been there on the way to Valentines chop shop. After ten or so minutes, he saw a grungy looking place that still had lights on. It was a strip club, the kind of place that looked like STD's crawled on the couches and bar stools, which was just the kind of shady place he could park his ass for half an hour or so before heading back into the city.

Jace parked his car around the back of the strip joint, next to a beat up looking Volvo. There were several cars in the lot, which was a little surprising for a place like this at five in the morning. He got out of the car, glancing around to check that there was no one around, before getting another set of plates out of the boot of his car and quickly changed them over. Then he headed inside.

It smelt like cheap perfume and sweat. Jace crinkled up his nose as he paid the door fee and then bee-lined toward the bar. He ordered a beer, along with a shot of whiskey. The girl behind the counter, wearing a silver thong, a pair of bunny ears and nothing else, winked at him as she took his money and slid his drinks across the counter. He threw back the burning, amber liquid, and then took his bottle of beer with him as he walked down the couple of steps leading toward the couches that were placed around the stage.

There were two girls dancing; two girls who had tight bodies and pretty good dance moves for a place like this. They were sultry, moving in time to the music, and Jace couldn't help his physical reaction as his eyes danced over the girl standing further back on the stage. Her skin was pale, and she was wearing a tiny red skirt that did nothing to cover her pert ass. She circled her hand around the pole that was secured to the floor and ceiling, rolling her hips, grinding herself against it, flicking her hair over her shoulder and running her hand through her hair. When she spun around, her red hair bounced around her heart shaped face, her tongue running seductively over her upper lip; his eyebrow raised in surprise.

Izzy's room mate.

_Now two things that have made me feel all happy this week...The first thing would be the fact that after almost three years of begging, my hubby finally let me get a kitten! I'm a cat person, he's a dog person, it's been a point of contention for a while. Haha. But then when we got to the SPCA, he fell in love with another one, so we ended up taking two home! So the new editions to our family are Han and Leia—yeah, yeah, we're _Star Wars_ nerds. _

_The second thing is GallaVich. _OhmyGOD_, GallaVich. So if one of you guys out there aren't watching _Shameless_ then I'm completely disappointed in you. I support both GallaVich teams, and I do hope that Lip and Mandy get back together. But Ian and Mickey. Ian and Mickey just _kill_ me every time. They are such an incredible, unconventional couple and they just get me in the feels every single time. _


End file.
